


I see you

by mee4ever



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Consent, Derek is a Good Friend, Dubious Consent, Explicit Consent, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love Confessions, M/M, Manipulation, Mentioned Kate Argent, POV Derek, POV Stiles, Past Rape/Non-con, Pining Derek, Protective Derek, Tutoring, a little bit of sex, the hales are of mexican decent, the nice kind, this is basically stiles being together with a jackass and derek makes him see that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mee4ever/pseuds/mee4ever
Summary: “I see you,” Derek said. Stiles jumped, spun, dropped his things and swore as Derek knitted his eyebrows. He’d emerged from his temporary hiding place and stood just next to Stiles, but apparently, the other boy hadn’t heard him coming.“Um… yeah,” Stiles said and picked up his stuff with as much dignity as one could. “You’re standing right in front of me, dude. I see you too?”Derek frowned; that wasn’t at all how he’d meant it. He’d meant that he saw Stiles as someone who was hurting, as someone who was scared, as someone Derek could relate to, because they were probably hiding for different reasons but they were both hiding.“Yeah, I don’t under-”Derek interrupted. “You will. Sooner or later, you will.” Then he marched off because this was as embarrassing as it was awkward and he'd probably just misinterpreted the whole situation anyhow.Or the one where Derek recognizes that Stiles is in a bad relationship before Stiles even understands it himself and how they manage this delicate situation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic just sorta happened to be written and become kinda long? 
> 
> Stiles is together with Jackson for the better part of the fic but it mostly revolves around Derek and Stiles' relationship and how over time Stiles understands that he's just not happy with Jackson. There are implications and some quite frank displays of sexual manipulations from Jackson's part, Kate is talked about as a past sexual abuser and things get heavy. Derek and Stiles are built on consent. Please tell me if you think I need to tag anything else, hopefully I've covered all the bases. It's also welcome to send me a message before reading if there's something specific you want to know about. 
> 
> Hover Spanish for English translations. (If you're on mobile, a complete translations list can be found in the end notes.)
> 
> ~~ means change in time and/or POV. 
> 
> (CBT means Cognitive behavioural therapy which is a sort of therapy than can involve putting yourself in situations of which you are afraid of (arachnophobias being exposed to pictures of spiders, then plushie spiders etc etc.))
> 
> Shout out to [redamancy-eunoia](http://redamancy-eunoia.tumblr.com/) for checking my Spanish! (Otherwise un-beta'd fic.)

Stiles was leaning against his boyfriend's locker and the man in question squared him there. It was otherwise deserted, save for Derek who’d just walked into the hallway, but silently stepped backwards to see the two boys finish their kiss and the older ask something. The answer mustn’t have pleased him because he slammed his hand straight into the locker beside Stiles’ face, the sound echoing ominously. Stiles stood, eyelids pressed together, books held fiercely to his chest, and shoulders raised higher than should’ve been possible as Jackson said a couple of final words and strolled away with a too big of a smirk on his face. Derek kept watching as Stiles slowly pushed away from the wall to walk across the hallway to his own locker. Even from a distance, Derek could see that his fingers were shaking when he tapped the combination and the way he clenched his fist to make them stop was all too familiar. Stiles would probably keep his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, underneath his thighs as he sat, or juggle with a pen or a ruler or anything to hide the fact that he couldn’t make them stop moving. It made Derek’s stomach clench.

“I see you,” Derek said. Stiles jumped, spun, dropped his things and swore as Derek knitted his eyebrows. He’d emerged from his temporary hiding place and stood just next to Stiles, but apparently, the other boy hadn’t heard him coming.

“Um… yeah,” Stiles said and picked up his stuff with as much dignity as one could. “You’re standing right in front of me, dude. I see you too?”

Derek frowned; that wasn’t at all how he’d meant it. “No, I mean… I _see you."_  He’d meant that he saw Stiles, not in front of him even if that too, but as a person, as someone who was hurting, as someone who was scared, as someone Derek could relate to, because they were probably hiding for different reasons but they _were_ both hiding. It just radiated off of Stiles, like a decease, something that was inside him that wanted out, something that was sick and wrong and something that only when alone he could let out. Like just a minute ago. When he’d thought he was alone. After Jackson had left, after Jackson had made Stiles ooze of discomfort. Derek recognized it and had done what he’d thought would make the most sense. How else would Derek have said it? It was direct enough without having to actually say much, it was just implied what he meant. He was already wondering why he’d even stepped forwards. Maybe, just maybe, it was because Derek didn’t want this kid to have to claw his way through it all by himself. And now the guy didn't even understand what he was talking about. Derek didn't know what to do, it was enough that he’d stepped out of his own comfort zone to step up and acknowledge the Stilinski boy but now when Stiles didn't get it, Derek didn't know how to continue. This was why he usually let everyone fight their own battles. Even if Derek had hated to fight on his own.

Stiles gave the hallway a quick look around, as if expecting other people to weigh in and for it all to be a joke. When no one else was around to found he said, “Yeah, I don’t under-”

Derek interrupted. “You will. Sooner or later, you will.” Then he marched off because this was as embarrassing as it was awkward.

“Oookay.” Derek heard the locker close and Stiles rumble away as he himself turned a corner and wished he hadn’t said a thing. He’d probably just misinterpreted the whole situation anyhow.

~~

The interaction with the Hale-kid had left Stiles with a sour feeling in his gut, his heart rate too fast and even though he wasn’t exactly sure what the other boy had seen, he was sure that his weird comment had something to do with Jackson. Jackson, who had been Stiles’ older boyfriend basically since Stiles started high school and who was the star of the Lacrosse team, the star of the school really, and who sometimes just didn’t like the things that spewed out of Stiles’ mouth. It wasn’t his own fault Stiles couldn’t ever shut the fuck up. Derek didn’t have any business trying to meddle, he didn’t know anything, he was just someone who happened to think he saw a thing that wasn’t even really a thing and Stiles wouldn’t let it get to him.

It got to him. During the following week, Stiles started keeping an eye out for the dark-haired boy who’d managed to get under his skin. _I see you._ Who the hell even says that? It was so… stalkerish. And it didn’t help that when Stiles looked, there he was. Not really noticing Stiles a whole lot it seemed, but somehow he was always around. Maybe it was because Stiles was just suddenly aware of the other boy, that he existed and that he had some general idea of who Stiles was but that was a rational thought Stiles didn’t stay on for too long. He started feeling very skittish, especially when Jackson was around because he thought Derek would step up to the two of them and make a scene, even if there was nothing to start a scene happening. But Derek never came up to Stiles again. For all Stiles knew, Derek never so much as looked at him and once again the statement was so odd. Why would he say that if he didn’t even give Stiles the time of day?

Stiles was slightly scared Jackson would pick up on the fact that he was always searching the hallways for someone, but if Jackson noticed, he didn’t say anything and the few times Stiles had spotted Derek as Jackson were close, Stiles had just pulled his boyfriend in for a kiss and then the crisis had been averted by tongues and hands on inappropriate places.

It wasn’t until the end of the week that Stiles got it. Jackson was telling the story about that time when Stiles blew him under the bleachers and they were almost caught by Finstock, and it didn’t matter that he left out Stiles’ name because literally everyone already knew it was him who had been there with Jackson. At least Stiles thought that they would hopefully be a little bit more questioning about the ‘a few months ago’ part of the story if they didn’t think Stiles was involved. No one paid any attention to Stiles, though, so when Stiles looked around just to find Derek all the way across the canteen, looking straight at him, he was shocked into looking back. Pretty creepy, Derek was if Stiles could say so himself, but it hit Stiles then. Derek didn’t just watch him, he _saw_ him. Because right then, Jackson was being obnoxiously loud about things Stiles rather would’ve had him be quiet about but not a single person seemed to realise Stiles was uncomfortable, or at least no one acknowledged it. Not quite like Derek. And Derek really didn’t even know him. Yet. Stiles thought maybe that should change, maybe he should have someone like Derek in his life because despite being the class clown, Stiles was heard but never seen; especially when Jackson was running his mouth loud and clear next to him. Then Derek turned to his friends, chatting like he hadn’t just made Stiles feel like the center of the universe.

~~

They had Spanish together. Stiles probably hadn’t really paid enough attention to Derek to know that, but then again it wasn’t like Derek had paid Stilinski a lot of attention before last week either. They hung in different social circles; Derek mostly just with his pack consistent of Isaac, Boyd and Erica and not a lot of people dared socialize with any of them. They weren’t really scary, not for real, but Isaac was the guy with a creepy dad that no one liked, Boyd was the butch black guy who people thought would break them in half if they looked at him the wrong way, Erica was the girl with epilepsy that no one wanted to be around because sometimes she got seizures and would look really uncanny and Derek, Derek was the weird one from the Mexican family with nine kids that lived on the outskirts of town in one big house with several other of their relatives and everyone thought was a cult. Needless to say, they were the four people in school whom everyone else stayed far away from. Derek didn’t mind. He knew his friends, about their loyalty and warm hearts, and he knew his family had just had a hard time integrating with the small town Americans when they’d arrived in Beacon Hills before Derek was even born, and the fact that it hadn’t gotten easier since then.

Stiles hung around whoever Whittemore hung around, which meant a lot of Lacrosse players, and cheerleaders. Of course, Scott too, but it didn't take much to see that Scott rather went for the one year younger Liam, Mason and Corey as soon as he had the chance and Stiles went to his click instead so it wasn’t like anything seemed wrong to anyone. If you weren’t paying attention, will say.

For being taken, Jackson sure as hell wasn’t saving his bragging for anyone (hot) who would listen. _Everyone_ listened. Derek didn’t like it in the slightest and Stiles seemed to roll his eyes quite a lot when no one saw. Well, except lately for Derek.

“You’re like, really good at Spanish, right?”

Smooth was a thing Stiles was not. He came up after class, when Derek sat in tailor’s position atop a desk, and scratched the back of his head.

Derek gave him a bemused look but answered, “It’s not as good as my English, but yeah, I’m fairly decent.” He was brought up mostly by Spanish so it would’ve been a tragedy if he hadn’t been but as he mostly spoke English these days, the Spanish sort of fell away little by little. He didn’t know why it mattered to Stilinski, though.

Then Stiles held up a piece of paper, looking about as uncertain that Derek felt. “Could you look at this?”

Derek’s brows shot up but he guessed it was an as good conversation starter as any. “Sure.” He took the assignment that Stiles handed him and he didn’t have to read more than a couple of sentences before he couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across his face. After finishing it, Derek gave Stiles one of his trademarked Looks.

Stiles scratched the back of his head once more. “So?” he asked.

Derek put the paper down and simply said, “It sucks.”

Stiles snorted a short laugh. “Fuck off,” he exclaimed, “it doesn’t!”

“It does. You really need to revise this.” Derek handed the assignment back and Stiles looked it in disbelief. Then he looked at Derek again, a playful sorta look that Derek liked.

“Oh, Master Hale, you teach me el Spanish then?” he said, eyebrows weirdly displayed in some sort of questioning and jokingly way.  

Derek rolled his eyes. “Sí, claro, pero es sólo una excusa para verme.“

Stiles looked at him like he was speaking some alien language rather than one he was learning. “See?” he said and pointed towards Derek, “This is why I need your help!”

“I said: You just want an excuse to see me.” It gave Derek a nice feeling to say that, and even better when Stiles responded, and Derek realised the statement was true.

“Damn, you see right through me.” Stiles laughed and Derek pretended not to notice that it sounded slightly nervous. “You did say ‘sí’ as well, didn’t you?” Stiles said then, eye growing slightly larger.

Derek cocked his head and shrugged confirmation.

The freckled boy grinned. “Sneaky little shit.”

Derek smiled. He didn’t make it harder than that for Stiles Stilinski to befriend Derek Hale.

~~

By some off chance miracle, Stiles’ blatant, slightly racist “you speak Spanish, you help me with this?”-approach worked out in his favor. Maybe it was because Derek already kinda wanted to get to know Stiles, but the thought seemed a little silly. He’d spoken to Stiles exactly once before and that had been weird and awkward and since then they’d not interacted more than that time in the cafeteria. After Stiles had walked away with his apparently really shitty Spanish homework, he’d gotten a friend request from Derek. The guy had a picture of his face in profile as a profile picture because he was without a doubt a giant nerd and as Stiles accepted the request with a tiny, crooked smile on his face he saw that Derek literally had no more than 53 friends. How a boy in high school in small-town Beacon Hills even had a social life with such was beyond Stiles and his curiosity over won his sense of privacy, and come on! Derek _had_ added him first, so he started meticulously go through Derek’s page.  

Out of the 53 friends, Stiles was sure about half of them were just Derek’s family. Siblings, parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins; the whole lot and they didn't all share the Hale name, but most of the recent posts on Derek’s wall were those people telling him happy birthday, thanking him for being such a good kid or tagging him in group photos in which Derek was always hiding his face. It was all very unfamiliar to Stiles who only had his dad and he did not even have him on Facebook. Stiles was tagged in too much weird shit on a daily basis, he posted too explicit things when he was drunk or speeded and his friends usually commented with a lot of obscene things to ever dare let the Sheriff see any of it.

The rest of Derek’s friends were people from school, people Stiles knew about because he’d seen them around rather than ever having spoken to, and then there was Scott. Out of the less than thirty teenagers that Derek had chosen to befriend, there was Stiles’ best friend among them. And Stiles hadn’t even known that Scott and Derek were friends. Well, maybe they weren’t because Stiles and Derek were not yet friends and Derek had added him anyway but… Stiles felt like he should’ve known. It made him feel immensely guilty because it had been quite a while since him and Scott talked for real, sure, they weren’t exactly fighting or anything and sat next to each other in class but other than that…

Derek Hale didn’t upload anything. No text posts, no photos, no links, no nada. It made Stiles a little self-conscious because maybe Derek sat right then and did the same thing, going through _Stiles’_ dash and he immediately wanted to delete half it’s contents just so that Derek wouldn’t get the wrong idea of him.

Stiles: were you serious when you said you’ll help me?

Dere: Were you seriously asking me?

Stiles growled. Had he been serious? It looked like he did need some help it had only been meant as a cover to start up conversation.

Stiles: only partly

Derek: Then i’m only partly gonna help you

It was a frustrating answer because Stiles had no idea what that meant. Would Derek help him with like one assignment and then nothing else? Would Derek help him with something but then hang with him, as a friend? Stiles wished it was as easy to make friends in high school as it had been in kindergarten when he’d walked up to Scott, sat down and then they’d been friends.  

Derek: I can introduce you to my mother, then you’ll have to speak Spanish.

Being introduced to someone’s mother didn’t feel like the absolute best plan, especially since Stiles wasn’t all that well acquaintance with said mother’s son to begin with but somehow he found himself not too threatened by the idea.

Stiles: CBT huh?

Derek: whatever, forget it

Stiles: When can i meet this mysterious woman?

~~

Derek only stood back and pursed his lips in amusement when his mother Talia met Stiles. Whatever Stiles had pictured, the stone cold latina that was standing in front of him, asking him questions in a language he desperately tried to remember, was most definitely not it. He did quite well though, Derek observed, especially since the only reference Derek really had to his abilities was the really poorly written assignment from a couple of days ago. Looked like the Stilinski boy was better at understanding than writing Derek’s family’s language.

“¡Oye, oye, mamá! Deja tranquilo al chico,” Derek begged and rolled his eyes after his mom had asked Stiles four different questions without giving him room to understand even the first one and then looking expectantly at him. He also didn’t want Stiles to figure out that she’d just asked what his _intentions_ towards Derek were. She had no business meddling, despite everything. And there were no _intentions_ because a) Stiles was taken, b) Derek didn’t like him _like that_ , and c) even if a and b had had different answers, Derek didn’t think Stiles would’ve ever gone for him anyway.

The look of utter betrayal and sincere relief that took over Stiles’ face as Derek dragged him away from his mother’s claws a minute later was priceless.

“Dude, you could’ve _warned_ me!”

Derek laughed. “I told you, you would have to speak Spanish!”

“She asked about my dad and I was so put on the spot I literally told her that he is ‘el hombre más grande de la rey’ because I couldn't remember that you can just say ‘sheriff’ in Spanish as well!” There was no way for Derek to stop laughing so he didn’t even try. Stiles gave him a dirty look and grumbled. They had arrived at the top of the stairs where a couple of toy cars and a lego dollhouse were splayed across the floor. Derek carefully kicked them out of the way and called for his brothers.

“¡Samuel, Ángel! ¡Alcen sus juguetes, van a matar a su abuela! ¡O a mí!”

Stiles looked at him, a sort of fond longing in his eyes. “Kid brothers?” he asked.

“Yeah, the twins.”

“You got more siblings?”

Derek gave him a look over his shoulder before they entered his room. Stiles didn’t know, or he was making conversation? “Yeah,” he snorted, “a few.”

“Tell me about them.” Stiles had entered the room without much of a fuzz, he hadn’t commented on the second bed, the distinction between Derek’s and Joshua’s things and when Derek made way to the left side of the room to drop his backpack in the designated corner, Stiles followed suit and then just flopped down on that bed. Derek shrugged, suddenly a bit embarrassed to talk about his family. It seemed so… private, but he decided that fuck it, because he did love all of them regardless.

“Joshua just started college,” he began and indicated towards the other bed. “We’ve shared a room for over a decade which has been a bit challenging because he’s five years my senior. He hit puberty by the time I started school, basically. You can imagine.” Stiles nodded absently and inspected the posters on Joshua’s wall, most of which displayed music groups of the sort Derek didn’t listen to.

“His taste in music is pretty much as bad as my Spanish,” Stiles said with a grin.

“Dude, your Spanish exceeds his music by light years.” Stiles grinned. “Anyway, in between the two of us there’s Ariana; she graduated high school this spring and she was off to college immediately. Laura is doing her last year now and she’s talked about moving back to join my mother’s law firm but I hope she goes to New York and lives her dream.”

“What does she want to do?”

“I have no idea,” Derek said and the two of them huffed a laugh. “But she always talks about New York. I think Beacon Hills is too small for her.”

“So, five siblings?” Stiles asked, somehow sounding impressed.

Derek blushed. “Yeah, no, there’s also Cora, who will start high school next year, Olivia, who just hit double digits and Lucas who’s turning eight next month.”

“Wow,” Stiles said. “I can't even imagine how it would be to have a big family like that.”

“It’s just you and your parents?”

For a second, Stiles looked misty-eyed. “Me and my dad,” he corrected. Derek hurried to apologize.

“It’s alright.”

“Do you have your paper with you?” Derek asked to get rid of the pressed mood and the look on Stiles’ face quickly turned bright again.

“You really gonna help me? Because you don't have to if you don’t-”

“What are friends for, ey?” Derek said and wished he hadn’t said so. Maybe Stiles would think he was weird, maybe he’d- But Stiles just smiled and went to get his assignment from his bag.

They sat opposite each other on Derek’s bed and Derek told Stiles it wouldn’t be a good idea for him to point out all the errors in the text because if Stiles was too good, their teacher would probably not even believe he’d written it to begin with. Stiles, reluctantly, agreed.

When Stiles made a couple of adjustments, Derek felt the need to pry growing larger than manageable levels. “Doesn’t Scott usually help you with this? He speaks fluently too, right?” he asked. Derek knew Scott was, they used to help each other cheat in chemistry. Judging by Stiles’ answer, Derek had rightly assumed that Stiles didn’t know this.

Stiles looked up for a second before returning his gaze to the paper. “Yeah, he does, it’s just…” he sighed and put his pen down, looking out the window. “I haven’t talked to him in a while…”

“Why not? I thought he was your best friend?”

“How do you know that?”

“He’s listed as your brother on Facebook.”

Stiles snapped his head towards Derek and narrowed his eyes. “Are you stalking me?”

“Potentially,” Derek deadpanned.

“Creep,” Stiles said but he couldn’t hide a smile. “No,” he said then and sobered up quickly, “but… we’ve just fallen out.”

“Something happen?”

“Jackson Whittemore?” Stiles offered with a pained look.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Obviously.” He was glad when Stiles let the jab slip by without comment.

“Scott doesn’t like him so it has put a strain on our relationship.” Stiles took a breath. “And it’s really bugging me out. I wanted to go see the new Marvel with him, it’s been our _thing_ for ages, man. He doesn’t know shit about Superheroes but he loves all the movies as a casual fan so he’s always gone with me and now I don’t even know-”

“Call him.”

“What?”

“Call Scott, ask him if he wants to go.”

Stiles didn’t move a muscle for several seconds and for being him, that was saying something. His voice was thin when he asked, “But what if he doesn’t?”

“Then you know he doesn’t,” Derek said with a casual shrug.

“Okay.” Stiles got off the bed and pulled out his phone and Derek gesture for him to ‘go on’ when he didn’t do anything. Finally, Stiles pressed a couple of buttons, the grip on his phone as he raised it to his ear enough to whiten his knuckles. “Hey, Scott, it’s Stiles.” He made a ‘why am I so awkward?’ face towards Derek, who just gave him a thumbs up. “Yeah, hi, what’s up? I was just thinking if you wanted to go see the new flick on Friday? Yeah? Really?” Stiles’ whole face lit up and Derek breathed a small sigh of relief. Awkward would’ve just been the start of it, had Scott turned Stiles down. “Okay, I’ll meet you there at seven? Yeah, great, see you there, buddy.” Hanging up the phone, Stiles looked to Derek and with a surprised voice he said, “He wants to go.”

“Also, obviously.”

“Thanks.” It was more heartfelt than any one of them dared to let on. Derek just rolled his eyes again although his whole body tingled with excitement at the gratification.

“As long as I can stay your Spanish tutor.”

“ _Sí claro,_ ” Stiles said and bobbed his eyebrows.

~~

Derek: ¿Qúe tal? 

Stiles: Really? Youre going to casually text me in spanish?

Derek: It’s a good way to work on your Spanish at the same time you get to  habla conmigo, ¿qué pasa? 

Stiles: I cannot believe I’m doing this…

Stiles: No mucho, y tu?

Derek: hey, no skipping accents!

Stiles: ugh, y TÚ?***

Stiles: dont make me do the weird backwards question marks as well

Derek: -.-

~~

Over the next couple of weeks, Stiles and Derek started hanging out for real. They carefully avoided talking too much about the ever pressing issue which had made Derek walk up to Stiles in the first place; the one and only Jackson and how he fit himself into Stiles’ life. Granted, Derek didn’t see loads of similar signs as he’d done that day but it was very clear, to him, that Jackson was not playing the boyfriend role particularly well. He was spending more time talking _about_ Stiles than _with_ Stiles, and Stiles didn’t look unhappy about it but he wasn’t the vibrant boy he clearly was most of the rest of the time. The Monday following the cinema experience with Scott, Stiles practically beamed when he met up with Derek after school. He talked about Scott and the movie at three hundred miles per hour and although Derek had loads of training with following multiple conversations at once because of his family, he found himself having a hard time following _just_ Stiles.

Derek got to meet “el hombre más grande de la rey” and they shared a look Stiles asked questions about for _weeks_. Derek didn’t know how to tell him so Stiles just went around and believed Derek had been a real troublemaker before high school. It was for the best. Instead of telling him he was wrong, Derek just pushed his face down into his Spanish homework and told him to focus.

“Are you… happy with Jackson?” Derek asked one night. Stiles was on his stomach on the floor in Derek’s room, sorting through papers and he looked up at Derek on the bed. Derek had an equal amount of papers spread around him and averted his gaze towards them and moved a couple around without looking at what they said.

“Yeah, why?” Stiles answered.

“Just wondering. How’s Scott?”

Stiles let out a short breath. “He’s talking to me, which you know, is an improvement.” After an awkward moment, a few papers being moved around, Stiles stilled. “Y'know, Scott asks me the same thing. Have you talked to him recently? Did he tell you to ask about me and Jackson?”

Derek shook his head.

“To me, it’s odd both of you would ask that. Is there something I’m missing? Except for the fact that neither of you seems to like my boyfriend at all.” Stiles sounded hurt by the fact and it made Derek feel weirdly proud because it felt like it actually mattered to Stiles what he thought, especially when he bundled him together with Scott who was literally the other boy’s best friend.

“It’s not... “ Derek started. He didn’t know how to say that Stiles felt like he was just _less_ when he was around or had just been around Whittemore, how Derek wanted to show him a comparison of how much happier he was when he’d seen his best friend or when he’d had a meal with his dad, Derek wanted to show Stiles a picture of the look on his face when he got a text from Jackson and ask him to tell him what happy person looked like that when your supposed loved one sent you something. If he was only better with words. “It just seems like he sucks you dry of joy,” Derek muttered.

“Believe me, if someone is sucking the other dry in this relationship, it sure as hell ain't Jackson.” It strung another chord in Derek’s gut, the way Stiles said it. Like that was just how it was, like that was how it was going to be despite the fact that Stiles didn’t sound like he liked it in the slightest, however much he tried to make it sound like a joke. It made Derek feel like shit; he wanted to do something, say something but he didn’t know how or what so he remained silent. Stiles seemed to have realised that his statement did not have the desired effect and he sighed.  

“I’m… Derek, I’m fine. Me and Jackson, we’re fine. I’m _happy_.”

“If you says so.”

Stiles’ voice was hard when he said, “I do say so.”

~~

Yet it seemed to Stiles that Derek was more interested in talking about Jackson than Stiles himself was. Practically every conversation that revolved around Jackson was because Derek asked something about their relationship and even it wasn’t the only thing they ever asked about, of course, Stiles didn’t know what to make of it. They’d go a week and then all of a sudden Derek would ask something along the lines of “Are you having sex?” and then his ears would go completely red and he’d stutter an apology about it “not being his place to ask”. Stiles and Jackson _did_ have sex, Derek knew this, but the way he asked was more than indicating that _what kind_ of sex he meant.

“We are,” Stiles answered and added, “I’m… I’m still getting used to it.”

Derek looked as embarrassed about the answer as he did the question; Stiles wondered why he’d asked in the first place. That, was a thing that was recurring question as well. Why did Derek say certain things? Why had he started talking to Stiles, why had he accepted to help Stiles with Spanish, why did he want to know things that he obviously wasn't comfortable knowing? Stiles didn’t know how to ask in return, so he just kept pondering the question for himself, trying to figure out an answer he would probably die before solving.

So the questions kept coming.

“Did he take you to prom?”

“How long have you been together?”

“Why did you even start dating him?”

“Do you know how much it did to my social status to date the captain of the lacrosse team?” Stiles asked. “I was a Freshmen and here came a beautiful, popular Junior and wanted to take me out? Who was I to say no?”

That was literally how it had all started. When Stiles had joined the lacrosse team, without Scott seeing as his asthma made it impossible for him to do so, Stiles had been alone until Jackson had taken him under his wing. Seventeen years old, with arms to die for and a smile brilliant enough so sweep anyone off their feet, Stiles had taken more than a friendly interest in him right away. Jackson, who’d flirted relentlessly for a couple of weeks, had asked him out by telling Stiles that he wanted to take him out and Stiles had rolled with it. They’d been making out in Jackson’s car that same evening.

“And then what?” Derek pressed.

“I dunno, just kept dating him, I guess. Became friends with his friends, got to know him. He liked me enough to call me his boyfriend, which I thought was kind of a big deal for Jackson “No homo” Whittemore.”

“ _No homo?_ Seriously?”

“He’s _bi,_ so.” Stiles shrugged. “Call him gay and he’ll flip his shit, no joke.”

“He’s just really passionate about bi-erasure, isn’t he?” Derek said and Stiles laughed until his lungs hurt.

“Really passionate,” he wheezed.

~~

Derek: Mamá te quiere aquí para cenar, no es una pregunta

Stiles: she bossy

Derek: Ella es el jefe

Stiles: bien, bien, con todo gusto.

Derek: there’ll be a lot of people and yeah well my other friends are coming too

Stiles: this is serious if you suddenly talk english

Derek: claro que sí

Stiles: should i be worried

Derek: no, no

Stiles: pero…?

Derek: pero nada.

~~

What Derek failed to mention was the fact that it was a _birthday_ dinner and that it was _Derek’s_ birthday. When Stiles arrived, Derek opened, clad in his usual black jeans and henley but also a really stupid looking party hat.

“Did I miss something?” Stiles asked and Derek made a face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think she was gonna make such a big deal out of it.” He let Stiles in and it took him about two seconds before he realised what was going on. By the kitchen table which Stiles could only barely catch a glimpse of, sat Derek’s little clique: Erica, Isaac, Boyd, and they had all equally ugly hats on their heads. Isaac and Erica laughed uncontrollably at Boyd, who just gave them each a stone cold stare.

Stiles then stared at Derek. “It’s your birthday dinner.”

Derek shrugged.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Derek’s time to stare. “Why would I want you to leave?”

“I dunno, you said your mom made you invite me, I thought maybe you didn’t actually _want_ me here.”

“Jesus, Stiles, of course I want you here, I just don't want to celebrate really, that's all.”

“Yeah?”

Derek just gave him a pair of eyebrows in return and wandered off. Out of the kitchen came the twins running, screaming Stiles’ name and the rest turned to greet him as he hobbled in with a twin standing on each of his foot. It had been quite a while since Stiles had started going over to the Hale house; months really, and everyone had just sort of grown accustomed to him being over a few times a week. Derek’s siblings always pestered him with questions which he usually loved because it felt like having a couple of younger siblings of his own. Derek hated when they even looked Stiles’ way, for some reason Stiles’ couldn’t understand. Stiles’ peers, Derek’s friends, said hi but after that they mostly leered until mamá Hale gave Stiles a kiss on the cheek and Derek had given them each one of his deadly glares. Stiles felt himself blush, because it had been a while since _he_ had been the one being very suspicious of the popular crowd and he himself still felt strangely detached to them so now when Derek’s friends obviously didn’t immediately trust him, he didn't know what to do about it. But the others let go of their prejudice and engaged him in conversation (well, they had to fight to get Boyd involved) and Stiles found that it wasn't just Derek he liked in Derek’s gang. Erica had bite, which Stiles’ had never seen before but then again, he hadn't paid her much attention before either. Isaac was quick witted and Boyd, when actually opening his mouth, funny things came out. The rest of the Hale family was pleasant (and nosey) as usual.

Derek cast one too many glances at Stiles when they weren’t talking, and finally Stiles raised his eyebrows in question. Derek looked away, cheeks slightly flushed. Stiles still looked at him when he looked again and this time Stiles mouthed “what?” and Derek just said “nothing” although it was clear it was something. Stiles turned to Isaac again who wrapped up a story and Derek did the same with his youngest brother.

It was well into the evening before Stiles could catch Derek alone for a second. The other boy had acted a bit weird all night, but not weird enough to be asking anyone else why he was acting weird. It was just… small things. Like the constant glances towards Stiles, a quiet square in his shoulder, nothing much. Just a tiny bit _off_.

Stiles bumped Derek’s shoulder and asked, “What’s up?”

~~

What's up, he asked. What was up? What was up was that Derek was fast and without intention growing feelings for Stiles. What was happening was Derek opening his heart to a boy who was taken, who just wanted to be his friend, who was so far from anyone Derek had ever wanted before. It had crept up on him and suddenly Derek barely remembered how life was before him and didn’t ever want to experience such a thing again. What was up was that Derek fancied Stiles and it felt so wrong for this wonderful boy not to know about it. He’d realised sometime during dinner, when Stiles had laughed at something silly his brother had said, when he was smiling so brightly, in the presence of everyone that Derek cared about.  

And suddenly he just said, “I’m falling in love with you, Stiles.”

Stiles first looked like he thought it was a joke, then as Derek didn’t laugh, he seemed shocked (probably because he didn’t know Derek liked guys, Derek guessed) and then he looked kind of sad. “Derek…” he said and looked to the floor.

“I know, I know,” Derek hurried to say and took a step forward but then he didn’t know if that was such a good idea. It wasn't like Stiles shied away when he did but… “I’m not telling you because I want you to do anything or feel anything, I just… I just want you to know. Didn’t seem fair otherwise.” Stiles nodded. Derek felt his pulse steadily increase when the other boy didn't say anything. Had he fucked this up? He really wished that he hadn’t.  

“I still want to be just your friend, if that’s what you want. It won’t be weird, I promise I won’t make it weird.”

Stiles gave Derek a side glance and said, “Weird _er._ Stalker.”

Isaac walked by and wondered what the hell they were doing, it was time for cake! Derek rolled his eyes but Isaac just motioned for them to follow already.

Stiles smiled, so Derek felt it safe to do so too. He wanted more than anything to have Stiles still in his life so this outcome was just better than expected. He nodded. Then they followed Isaac out, stomachs craving that birthday cake. Derek felt relieved. He had fallen for Stiles, he’d told him and Stiles had taken it well. They could still be friends. That, more than anything made his birthday really awesome.

~~

“I don’t wanna.”

Jackson stopped for a second before rolling his whole fucking head. “Oh, come on, Stiles, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” Stiles asked and pulled down the hem of his shirt, the one his boyfriend had just tried to strip off his body.

After letting out the deepest sigh heard to man, Jackson answered, “So _boring_.”

It had started to become a regular thing; Stiles just not _feeling it_ and Jackson getting irritated because _he_ was feeling it. There was not really any obvious reason for why Stiles rather just kept to kissing; he was a teenage boy with a hot boyfriend after all but it somehow just wasn’t _enough_. Stiles wanted more and he had no idea what that actually meant, because what more could Jackson give him? He didn’t feel boring; he felt almost empty. Jackson kept looking at him, expectedly, so Stiles sighed and said, “I just don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“Just don’t.”

“Yeah, but why not?”

“I don’t want to, that’s reason enough,” he said and put more heat behind the words.

Jackson stared at him before puffing out a, “You’re literally no fun.” He pursed his lips, looked down at his obvious erection and sighed again. “Could you _at least_ suck me off? You _have_ gotten me all horny and worked up.” And after a beat, Stiles agreed because _at least_ that would shut him up.

Stiles crawled back up after Jackson had finished, wiped at his mouth and Jackson rolled out of bed to get his pants back on. The shirt he’d taken off before, he let be on the floor and just dropped down on the bed again, phone already stuck in his face. Stiles scooted forward to place his head on top of Jackson’s chest but Jackson groaned.

“Stop it, that’s so _gay,_ ” he said and shrugged his shoulder so that Stiles had to move away. Sighing, Stiles rolled his eyes and decided not to comment on the fact that he had just been blown by a dude which _was very gay_ because it would only start up their conversation about sexuality _again_ , where Jackson would be pissed because neither of them was _actually_ gay whereas Stiles used it more as an overall term for anyone being attracted to the same sex (regardless whether you were attracted to others too or not). Jackson was not gay and did not approve of things he found gay. Cuddling was gay, hand holding was gay, being generally cute was gay. Fucking another guy, though? Not gay. Stiles didn’t know what sort of internalized homophobia that rummaged Jackson’s mind and Jackson never wanted to share or try to change his perspective so Stiles had given up long ago to even try. He openly dated Stiles, which in the end was well enough. Or, it used to be. Stiles wasn’t so sure anymore, but he didn’t care for that conversation now so he just rolled over, laid down on his back next to Jackson and picked up his phone too.

Derek: ¿Cómo estás?

He typed and sent his response before even realising that he had.

Stiles: Mal

Derek: ¿Por qué?

Stiles threw Jackson a quick glance. He didn’t understand any Spanish but it felt risky to text Derek about him when he was _right there._

Stiles: El novio

He wrote anyhow.

Derek: ¿Es malo contigo?

Stiles: No, pero...

Derek: ??

Stiles: Es un poco… dominante? Intenso? Manipulativo? 

Derek: No es bueno. Termina con él.

Stiles: Termina?

Derek: No importa.

Stiles googled it. Then he put his phone down on his chest and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before texting a quick ‘gtg’ (Derek: ttyl) and turning to Jackson.

“I’m gonna go home.”

Jackson glanced at him. “Whatever.”

~~

Stiles: Come over

Derek: He’s gone home?

Stiles: He was never here

~~

“But you were at his.” Derek didn’t know what he had expected; the two _were_ a couple how much Derek wished they weren’t.

Stiles stared at him as he made way through the room and dumped his leather jacket on Stiles’ chair. “How could you possibly tell?” Stiles asked.

Derek gave him a Look. “You smell like his perfume. And sex,” he added.

Stiles put both his hands in his pockets and was quiet for a while. “I have a question about the word of the day. It’s a verb.” He was too tense. Derek didn’t like where this was going. He’d slipped up earlier, and he wished that Stiles would have ignored it.

“Werb of the day?” Derek tried to joke.

Stiles didn’t laugh. “It’s: Terminar.”

It wasn’t funny. Derek was quiet for a long time. “It means ‘to finish’ or ‘to end’,” he said finally without looking at Stiles.

“You straight up told me to break up with my boyfriend. How is that _not_ making things weird?” Stiles threw his hands out, exasperated.

“He’s being a dick, Stiles,” Derek said and fisted his hands to keep them from shaking. “Treating you like shit. Anyone would tell you to dump him if you’d let them.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Derek didn’t want to have this conversation; Stiles was too worked up, he himself was too tired. “It’s just, from an outside perspective, it doesn’t look like the two of you are doing really all that well together.”

“An ‘outside perspective’?”

“Yeah, as someone not involved in your relationship.”

“And as someone ‘not involved in our relationship’, maybe you should stay out of it?” Stiles was speaking in his lower voice, which made Derek pull back a little; Stiles seemed to only use that one when he was particularly angry rather than the higher pitch it took when he was only irritated.

“I was just-”

“Yeah, but maybe I don’t want you to? Maybe what I need is some reassurance instead of everyone telling me to end my relationship all the fucking time?”

Derek took the bite even if he didn’t want to. “So you rather want me to lie? Tell you some bullshit that he probably doesn't understand how you’re feeling even though he obviously doesn't _care?_

“I’ve seen you walking around with your head hung like from a noose for months and you have on several occasions indicated that he doesn’t want much else than sex from you and you can go deny it all you want, because no one is going to try and convince you otherwise.

“But you've got to admit that you both started your relationship for very selfish reasons and maybe you also just have to realise that the feelings that you developed for him, _he_ never really developed for _you_.” It all came out too demeaning, too mocking, too insincere, and Derek just wanted to start over, do this when they were not already in a heated argument because he needed Stiles to _understand._

Stiles had just stopped and stared. “Fuck you, Derek,” he said. “You can’t just go around telling me my boyfriend has never been in love with me and has only used me for sex when you literally are ‘falling for me’ but you just want to fuck me too.”

Everything had really worked out in a way that Derek _hadn’t_ intended, he’d stumbled over his own words, his own thoughts but he never, “I’ve never said that, I didn’t-”

Stiles didn’t want to listen. “Oh, no, so you’re just casually in love with me but have no desire to get into my pants, so your observations are purely for my best interest then and nothing of personal gain because even if I would break up with Jackson you wouldn't possibly fucking try to bed me, would you?”

Derek wanted to tell him that it wasn’t about Derek wanting Stiles, it wasn’t about Derek at all, but everything just led back to the fact that Stiles thought that because Derek had feelings for him, that he would do anything to get Stiles to break up with Jackson, when in reality, it was because Derek cared about Stiles that he wanted Stiles to understand that what Jackson was doing wasn’t right, it wasn’t okay. Derek couldn’t just sit idly by and watch Stiles… get lost in what was what Stiles wanted and what was what Jackson wanted. “I just don’t want you to be hurt.”

“Well, I guess it’s a bit too fucking late for that.”

~~

Derek: Habláme

Derek: please

Derek: Stiles, I’m sorry, everything I said came out really wrong and I just want to explain myself please

Derek: would you please pick up the phone

Derek: Perdóname, perdóname

~~

Stiles: im so fcnk engry i cannt type call me

Scott: take a breath, be with you in five

~~

“What did Jackson do this time?”

Stiles was upset enough not to comment on the fact that Jackson didn't _always_ have to be the reason for why Stiles was angry, but also since this time he _was,_ it would've just sounded stupid to contradict him.

“I asked him if he loves me and you know what he said?” Scott took a breath but Stiles couldn't wait for him to actually guess. “‘ _Sure_ ’,” he said, making his voice as mocking as he could. “He said _sure_ without even looking away from his fucking game; he _shrugged_. We’ve been together for over a year, doesn’t that count for anything?”

Scott sighed on the other end of the line. “Why would you even ask him such a thing? If you’ve never said it before, I don’t think that’s a good way of getting someone to say it to you? I think, usually, you say you love them and they respond with the same.”

“Yeah, well I can’t help that I wanted to know if he did or not.” Scott didn’t say anything for a while and Stiles just grumbled wordlessly. Was it such a weird question to ask your boyfriend? Your boyfriend, who you’d been seeing for a year?

“Do you love him, then?” Scott suddenly asked,

Stiles was taken aback. Of course, he did. Didn't he? He should. “Think so.”

“You know, after that pause and with that response, I’m not so sure that’s true.”

Stiles grumbled some more. “Derek told me he loved me.”

“ _What_?! Derek? Did what now?”

“Just, out of the blue, last week at his dinner thingy I told you about.”

“And you failed to mention that teeny tiny detail? Is this why you asked Jackson? Stiles, do you have like, feelings for Derek now, is that it?”

“No! No, I don’t have feelings for Derek, he’s just a friend. Like, not my best friend, _obviously_ , but he takes second place. Over Jackson, any day. Shouldn't Jackson be second place? Does this mean I don’t love Jackson?”

“No, Stiles, it just means you really like Derek.”

“I do.”

“So why the fuck are you still hung up on him calling Jackson out?”

“Because he’s my boyfriend!”

“ _Derek_?”

“What? No! _Jackson!_ ”

“Right. Okay, so? Your boyfriend acts like a dick and a guy who cares about you is concerned? What’s the problem? I tell you I am all the time.”

“Yeah, but you don’t want to get into my pants. And also, we barely talked for six months.”

“True… but we’re talking now so you should go talk to Derek too.”

“I'm going to hang up now.”

“I love you.”

“Yeah, and unfortunately, I love you too.”

“Talk to Derek.”

“Byeeeee.”

Then Stiles sat with his phone in his hand for a long time, staring at nothing.

~~

“I’m only here because Scott made me come.”

“Ehm,” Derek said and stepped out onto the patio and closed the door instead of letting Stiles in. “This is not a good time.”

Stiles, who had his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor, now glanced his way. “Something wrong?”

Derek swallowed. He didn’t know if this was the right time to bring up such important family business. "No importa", he said with a fake smile.

“Last time you said that, it turned out to be a bit more important than ‘nothing’.”

Derek’s stomach knotted. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Derek.” Stiles held his gaze now, stepped forward. “Your lying abilities are worse than your brother's music taste.”

A surprised laugh escaped Derek’s mouth and he put a hand over it to suppress it. It didn’t help and Stiles was grinning. “It’s…” Derek started but shut his mouth again.

Stiles smile faltered. “Hey,” he said and rested a hand atop of Derek’s elbow like he’d suddenly forgotten that he was upset with Derek. “What’s up?”

It was like a quiet ‘ _I see you too’_ that Derek didn't know he needed.

“Derek? Derek!” His mother’s voice turned desperate and Derek quickly opened the door to shout out his location.

His mom showed up seconds later and with one look at Stiles, she said, “Good, you here to pick up my son, sí?” She didn’t wait for an answer, she just stepped out and kissed Stiles’ forehead. “I’m glad Derek has friends like you. Muchas gracias.” Then she kissed Derek before turning back into the house. Stiles stood stricken and watched her go and Derek didn’t know what to say.

“I guess we're going to mine,” Stiles concluded and turned on his heel. Derek followed after a slight hesitation. At the Stilinski’s at least he would be safe.

Stiles asked again what was going on when they closed the door to his house after a completely silent ten-minute walk. He made Derek and himself a sandwich each without even asking if Derek wanted one and didn't push when Derek didn't immediately tell him anything.

“It’s my uncle,” Derek said. The other boy just waited. “He’s… He and Laura got into an argument last year on Christmas and he beat her pretty badly. Not that she didn’t defend herself but he’s twice her age and size, so anyway. He hasn’t been welcome since. Mamá hasn’t even spoken of him since that day but my dad has told me some stuff about him and now…” Derek’s voice died out.

“Was he in the house? Is someone hurt?”

“No, no, we’re all fine, but… but we could’ve not been.”

“What did he do?”

“Cora found him in the basement. He was tampering with the gas.”

“He-”

“Mamá thinks he was gonna set fire to the house.”

“Shit.” Stiles' eyes were blown up wide and he kept repeating the word. Derek didn’t say anything else for a long time.

~~

They lay on top of Stiles’ bed; on their backs, shoulder to shoulder and stared straight upwards. Stiles was shocked by what Derek had told him, how someone that was your own flesh and blood could ever even consider doing such a thing. There were so many people living in the Hale house, it was uncanny to even think about it going up in flames. Stiles shuddered at the thought. He might’ve been pissed at Derek just a few hours ago but now? Now, he just felt relief that Derek was alive and breathing and he didn’t care about any stupid things he might have said about his boyfriend a week ago. Grudge officially released.

“Thank you,” the dark-haired boy said, “for listening. It wasn’t exactly the topic I had wanted to talk to you about but I think I needed to talk to someone about it.”

Stiles shook his head. “That’s alright.”

“I’m scared.”

“It’s okay,” Stiles whispered. They lay in silence as minutes passed by and for some reason the mood felt lighter than Stiles would’ve suspected it should after the thing Derek had told him.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Derek took a steadying breath and said, “You’re not gonna like it but can you promise me that you’ll answer with the truth?”

Stiles thought he knew what was coming but anyhow he said, “Sí claro."

“I’m serious.” And Derek sounded it.

“Me too.” And Stiles was.

“Does Jackson… ever make you do things you don’t actually want to do?”

And Stiles thought of countless of blowjobs that had been pried from him, shots that had been persuaded down his throat, sex he’d been guilted into having despite not feeling ready for it. He thought about the times Jackson had made him sneak out even if it made him feel genuinely uneasy to lie to his dad like that and he thought about the times he’d kept his mouth shut just because he knew his opinion wouldn’t suit Jackson. There was also Scott; his best friend, who Jackson hadn’t really _forbidden_ him to see but was so clearly not keen on that somehow Stiles had minimized their interactions to such a level that until just a couple of months ago he wasn’t sure if they were friends at all anymore. Too many thoughts, and too many feelings, all bundled up and Stiles wasn’t all that pleased with the result of the simple question that Derek had asked. It made him feel weak. It made him feel like he was a pathetic loser who couldn’t even remember the last time he did something just because he wanted to. Yet...

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yeah, he does.”

~~

Kate Argent. Derek was going to tell Stiles about Kate Argent.

“You know, I-” he started and then it was like someone strangled him because he didn’t know how to continue.

“Derek?” Stiles said, voice laced with concern again and he turned on the bed to fully face him. Derek stayed on his back, shifted his gaze from the ceiling to his hands which he couldn’t stop fiddle with and back up to the ceiling again. He didn’t dare to look at Stiles.

“Last year I… I met this girl, right? And I fell, like, really hard, because… well, you friggin know.”

The other boy sounded slightly confused when he said, “Okay?”

“It was just… she was twenty-three,” Derek said and inhaled sharply. There it was. The first revelation.

“Dude…” Stiles gave him a look and when Derek returned it, it was not the one Derek had expected. It was one that said that the age difference was fucked up, illegal, disturbing, rather than the ‘You got laid by twenty-something? Score!’-response he had been fearing. Which was probably why it was just like someone pulled the plug and once Derek started to explain, he couldn’t really make himself stop.

“I know, and she knew. So she obviously asked me not to tell anyone and me, being so stupidly head over heels that someone like her wanted me, of course, didn’t tell anyone about her. I knew it was not right, because I didn’t even tell anyone I had an older girlfriend without specifying, when people assumed I had never had a girlfriend or that I was a virgin or that I was stupid for turning down that one girl who actually talked to me, I didn’t correct them or tell them why. So I knew how bad it was. I just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“At first it was just exciting, you know? This beautiful woman with golden hair and a sharp tongue who wanted to spend time with me? Who wanted to kiss me, love me? I didn’t understand that she played games, I didn’t understand she was manipulating me. But she was always sort of… coaxing? ‘You won’t tell anyone, will you, Derek? Because they might separate us, and you don’t want that, do you, Derek?’ and of course I didn’t want that, I loved her.

“Then we started… She started touching me. I liked it, what wasn’t there to like, you know? She had experience and I had not and she could pick me apart so quickly; hands, mouth… She’d ride me in the backseat of her car like it was just another Tuesday afternoon. It was exhilarating, I was walking on cloud nine until one day that things started… escalating. I don’t even remember why but for some reason I just didn’t want to kiss her, I wanted to talk, I wanted to tell her something and she wouldn’t listen. She just grabbed my face, all tooth and nail, and I was so struck because she’d never used force before, but then again I’d never denied her anything either.

“It just went downwards from there. I was less and less eager to do anything with her but she somehow managed to make me anyhow, coaxing me, charming me, telling me I did want it because why else would my body react to her touch even if I told her I didn’t want her to continue. She just… roughed me up. Slapped me, bit me, forced me to stay put when I tried to get away. It was all very confusing because I still thought I loved her, she told me I still did and for some reason I just believed her so I kept answering when she called and I kept replying to her texts even if I jumped every time my phone went off, even if the thought of having to see her turned my stomach and her hands on me now made me feel nauseous.

“And no one knew. I was alone; I was so afraid to tell anyone about her because I didn’t know what she would do to me if she found out I had. My friends understood that I was acting weird of course but they could never quite figure out _why._ I just wanted her gone. I wanted her to stop looking at me like I was something she could devour, I wanted her to stop using sex as a weapon against me, I wanted her to stop playing games.”

Derek took a breath and he felt like the world had suddenly lifted an inch off of his shoulders. He realised that this was the first time he’d really told the whole story to anyone, the first time he’d felt secure enough to do so even if he trusted his friends, there was just something that had stopped him from telling them much about his demon. For a second, he just breathed, couldn’t focus on anything else because his ears had started ringing and his heart had started beating too loud. Stiles’ hand came up and rested on his shoulder and the gesture made Derek finally turn his face towards him again, see his clear eyes as he seemed to take in everything that Derek had just burdened him with. He didn’t see any pity, he didn’t see any snark remarks on the tip of his tongue, he didn’t see anything that indicated that Stiles thought of his story as funny. In itself, that was also a relief.

“What happened?” Was what Stiles said when he found his voice. It was squeakier than normal.

Derek sort of shrugged. “Somehow my dad found out. He threatened to kill her if she’d ever come near me again; he’s usually such a puppy but right then he was a wolf, and he wouldn’t have hesitated to rip her throat out if she’d fought him. But she didn’t. She just grinned towards me, all teeth and no warmth, and told me that it’d been fun but it was time for her to move on. Maybe she’d be back when I was older, stronger, better looking. Then she was just gone. I couldn’t stop throwing up for days, I just kept seeing her face and… She’s gone and I still feel like maybe she’ll turn the corner one day and I’ll be right there, in her backseat again.”

“She’s ‘gone’?”

“She left town. I guess she has an APB out for her but no one has seen or heard from her since. You know, her… sister is in our year. It’s… a mess. I don’t know if there’s even a case if they find her.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no… there’s no proof of what she did. I have some texts, an unhealthy amount of calls in my records but literally nothing that proves that she did anything to me. What jury will ever convict a woman like her for rape when it’s just a fifteen-year-old boy who can testify against her?”  

Stiles squeezed his shoulder when Derek swallowed and pressed down a sob and it felt like he said ‘ _I_   _would_ ’ which didn’t make it easier to not start crying.

“Do people know?”

“A lot of grown-ups, yeah. It was quiet the talk of the town. I hate it, but I’m glad it’s not common knowledge in school. I’ve only briefly told my pack.” There was a knock on the door and the Sheriff called out Stiles’ name. Stiles gave Derek a short smile before making way off the bed and as he left, Derek watched him. This beautiful, freckled boy who he trusted with the most disturbing parts of his life and who he just wanted to be happy. He didn’t hear what the Sheriff nor Stiles said but he sat up in bed, expecting to be asked to leave because it was late. But Stiles closed the door with a ‘g’night, dad’ and turned to Derek again.

“You’re allowed to stay the night, if you want. I told my dad you’ve just told me some pretty heavy stuff, I hope that was okay.”

The Sheriff knew about Kate, a conclusion Derek didn’t find it offensive that Stiles had drawn but he still felt compelled to ask, “You won’t tell anyone else, right?”  

“Are you kidding me, Derek? Of course I’m not going to tell, I didn’t tell my dad _what_ you told me, the fuck do you think of me?”

“Thanks.”

Stiles shrugged. “No es problemo.” Derek rolled his eyes. “No?”

“Almost,” Derek said with a tiny smile.

“Hug?” Stiles asked then and tentatively held his arms out.

“Hug,” Derek confirmed and stood up from the bed, only to be swept into the arms of one Stiles Stilinski. It was a friendly sort of hug but it lasted a lifetime, simply because Stiles let Derek decide when it was over and Derek never wanted it to be. When he finally let go, he was flushed and he didn’t feel brave enough to look Stiles in the eye when he offered Derek his spare mattress.

~~

Derek: you know i didnt really mean to compare your situation with j to mine with kate right? I just, i feel like ive recognized things you say and i get a bad feeling everytime i do bc it feels shit if youd be anywhere near the situation i was in. Dont want you hurting thats all

Stiles: it’s cool

Derek: ok

Stiles: im glad you told me, all that stuff. thanks for trusting me like that

Derek: sap

Stiles: hide behind that stony facade

Stiles: i know you love me anyway

Derek: go away stiles

~~

Stiles did a lot of thinking in a short period of time.

More particularly, about a month worth of thinking in about five minutes. Once again, Stiles found himself at a party he didn’t know how he’d agreed to attend, with a drink in his hand that Jackson side eyed and in a house he didn’t even know who it belonged to. It was Saturday, mid-November. The Look Jackson gave him was one he’d seen a million times now, one that said that Stiles was doing something, liking something, saying something that was _not good_ by Jackson’s measurements. Usually, Stiles would shut up, roll his eyes or simply move on when The Look would materialize but today he got so fucking fed up. Jackson wasn’t his boss, Stiles could rock this magenta coloured drink if he wanted to, he should be allowed to want to cuddle because who the fuck was Jackson to tell him that he shouldn’t, he should be himself and not some rinsed out, spat out version that complied with everything that his boyfriend said.

Stiles realised he stood boiling, when Jackson said, “What’s your problem?”

“You’re my fucking problem,” Stiles hissed and Jackson’s expression darkened.

“Excuse you?”

“No, no, excuse _you_ for having a problem with everything I do, including what I’m drinking.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and peered down at the glass in Stiles’ hand again. “Why do you have to be so extra? Can’t you just drink beer like a normal person?”

That was it. Stiles put the glass down, turned to his boyfriend and took a deep breath. “You know what, Jackson? This is who I am: I'm “ _gay”_ , alright? I like _The Notebook_ , pink drinks, cuddling and getting fucked up the arse.” Jackson’s eyes widened in anger and shock and Stiles quite liked it. “Truly,” he continued, fueled by months and months worth of pushing himself down, “I fucking love all of the above and you just can’t seem to handle that, can you? So I’m going to make your life so much fucking easier for you! You can go home right now and fuck yourself because _we’re quits_.”

The pain was nothing to the searing white he saw, which pierced through his brain and when he opened his eyes he was stupidly confused because he hadn't remembered he’d closed them. There was a girl with strawberry blonde hair leaning over him and that was when he realised he hadn’t known he was on the floor either. He sat up, too abruptly which made his head spin and the girl put a hand on his back to support him.

“Take it easy, kid,” she said and Stiles looked at her.

“Do I know you?” he asked because he was pretty sure he’d remember a girl as beautiful as her.

“I’m the girl who dated your now ex-boyfriend before you,” she said and Stiles racked his brain for a name. Lydia, he decided on and then he heard the rumble. Staring, Stiles saw three people wrestling with a completely crazed out Jackson. Ex-boyfriend. Shit. Stiles had actually just broken up with him.

“Fuck,” Stiles murmured. A few moments later, Jackson stopped fighting and left after giving Stiles a murdering glare Stiles’ hands started shaking at.

“You alright?” Lydia asked and looked down at him after Jackson had disappeared out of sight, a hand still resting on his back. He nodded, because at least he thought if he told himself he was okay, he would be. The girl didn’t look to believe him but she didn’t contradict him. “You took quite a hit,” she continued instead, “that’s gonna leave a shiner. Has he hit you before?”

Stiles shook his head.

“You should report him. Do you have your phone?” Stiles did have his phone and when he brought it forward, Lydia snatched it from his grip.

“My dad’s the Sheriff,” Stiles said, hoping that would make her understand that he definitely couldn’t let his father know anything about this.

Lydia didn’t understand. “Splendid,” she said and flicked her hair out of her eyes, “should I call him right now?”

“No,” Stiles hurried to say. No police, no Sheriff, no parent, no nothing like that. His stomach clenched when he wished he could call for Scott but there was no way he would be allowed to come, neither did he want Melissa to find out and there wasn’t the slightest chance his best friend could sneak out with his mother in the house. Stiles didn’t much care for the “I told you so”-speech that would ensue either. There were just one person left and frankly, it was the only one Stiles felt even remotely keen on seeing. “No,“ he said again. “Call Derek.”

~~

“I just said ‘we’re quits’ in the middle of a party, I mean, first of all, who does that? And then he got really angry and he threw a punch, so second of all, who does _that?_ I fell to the floor, I even fucking passed out for a couple of seconds!”

“Stiles... “

“You know, he wasn’t even drunk; he was tipsy at most. He’s just such a pissbaby he couldn’t take being broken up with. Then people had to _hold him back_ because he tried to get at me again, like what the...”

Derek put a careful hand on top of Stiles’ upper arm and when the other boy didn’t flinch but only stopped moving to look at Derek, he put his other hand on the side of Stiles’ neck.

“Breathe,” he said and Stiles just looked stunned for a couple of seconds before inhaling, quickly and deep. And then he did again. And again.

“ _Exhale_ ,” Derek said, almost panicking but then Stiles finally breathed out, stuttering and in shaking portions and his eyes filled with tears.

“He fucking _hit me._ ”

“I know,” Derek said and stroked his hands up and down Stiles’ arms. “He’s not here now. You’re alright.”

Stiles pulled him in, hugged him so tight Derek felt like maybe he would suffocate but he just held onto Stiles for as long as the other boy needed him to.

~~

Stiles had hoped the swelling, as well as the color, wouldn’t be so bad but when he looked himself in the mirror the next night, there was just no denying that he didn’t only feel like he’d been punched in the face; he looked the part too. There was no way Papa Stilinski would let it go unnoticed. Fuck Stiles’ entire life.

“Who did this to you?” The question came, as expected, but Stiles hadn’t thought the Sheriff would look so devastated once he saw Stiles’ face. Like he couldn’t believe someone would do that to his son, rather than thinking that Stiles had gotten himself into trouble like usual. Stiles tried to shrug it off.

“I don’t know, it was just some random kid at the party yesterday, he was probably too drunk and just took a swing at the closest person.” His dad stared at him, so he added, “I didn’t even see his face.”

“And nobody else did either?” His dad was too much of a cop, Stiles decided. He wasn’t entirely sure why he didn’t pronounce Jackass as his assailant but he just wished it would all go away so he never had to think about him again.

“Dad, I’m fine,” he said.

Stilinski senior cradled his son’s face as he exclaimed, “You’re showing off a black eye!” He looked angry and he looked almost _scared_ and Stiles had no idea what to do.

“It was one punch, I am not dying,” he assured and patted his father’s hands away.

The Sheriff straightened up. “Okay, alright.” Then he decided to give Stiles hell for where he’d been. “So. A party. Didn’t know I had given permission for such a thing?”  

Stiles felt so tired. “Dad, could we not?” And for once, his dad just nodded and came in for a hug. They were rather rare, but Stiles liked hugs from his dad; Jackson wasn't much of a hugger so Stiles thought maybe he was a bit hug-starved. Maybe that was why he’d hugged Derek for _hours_ yesterday.

After the whole ordeal downtown, Derek had shown up after Lydia had called him. He’d gotten his sister Laura, who was home for the weekend, to come pick them up and Stiles had spent the night in Joshua’s bed, though they’d slept little and talked lots. That was to say, after Stiles had held onto Derek till his arms felt like rubber and he had _had_ to let go. Derek had just stroked his hair and hugged him back, without question, without complaints.

They were on their way to bed when Stiles realised he wanted to tell his father one thing that had happened yesterday. “Dad…” Stiles stopped with his hand on the rail to the stairs and his dad in the door frame to his room.

“Son?”

He wasn’t sure it was a good idea to say it right then but it didn't matter because he heard himself say, “I broke up with Jackson.”

The two Stilinskis shared a trademarked Stilinski-Look which said a lot of things that neither of them knew how to vocalize and all the Sheriff said afterwards was “good” before they both nodded and left for their respective bedrooms.

~~

He skipped school on Monday. He didn't want to know what story went around, he didn’t want to see Jackson, he didn’t want people to look at him because he had a black eye and wonder, or worse _ask him,_ why he had it. His dad didn't even flinch when he said he wasn't going, and only argued long enough for Stiles to agree to at least spend the day with him down at the station. Stiles hadn’t done that in ages but it felt familiar to sit at the front desk with Dolores and do his homework.

Stiles: w/ dad today, talk tomorrow

Derek: alright, will be here if you need anything

Scott: jackass’ tryna say he didnt hit u, lydia is telling the whole school he’s an absolute douche. Come tomorrow

“ _Stiles!_ ” He was skipping school to not have to talk to Whittmore but it seemed like it didn't matter because obviously a Whittemore wanted to talk to him. It wasn’t Jackson who’d just stepped into the station, though; it was his dad. Stiles didn’t want to turn towards him, but he did anyway.

“Stiles,” Mr. Whittemore said again and this time it held no heat.

“What?” Stiles answered without even trying to go for more polite; he was too tired for that shit.

Mr. Whittemore came to a stop beside him and cleared his throat before saying, “I see that my son probably left out a couple of things in his recollection of what went down on Saturday.”

“What makes you think that?” Stiles asked and feigned confusion before acting like he just remembered. “Oh, right,” he said and pointed towards his face like it wasn’t totally obvious, “the massive bruise he put on my face.”

“Are you alright?”

“Let’s see…” Stiles looked around the air for a while as if he didn’t know the answer before staring Mr. Whittemore straight in the eye. “No.”

“I guess this makes it a bit unclear for why my son wants to take out a restraining order against you.”

Stiles started laughing at the absurdity of that. With a smile sharp as a knife and warm like an icicle, Stiles then said, “If your son ever comes near me again, I’ll cut his balls off with a pair of dull hedge clippers, but hey, if that makes him want to take out a restraining order against me; that’s his fucking choice.”

“I’m deeply sorry for my son’s behavior.”

“You have no right apologizing for him,” Stiles said, voice rough. “Especially when it doesn’t seem like he thinks he has anything to apologize for.” Mr. Whittemore nodded once and Stiles turned away from him, indicating that without further ado, the conversation had ended. It felt like a victory when Whittemore Senior left the station again without talking to anyone else.

~~

Stiles: Would you come over? My anxiety keeps me up, I don't know what to do.

Derek: Window?

Stiles: Yeah

Derek: Gimme 10

It took him thirteen but Stiles didn’t comment; it was faster than Jackson would’ve ever shown (if he even would have come) despite him having a car and Derek both didn’t have one, and lived further away. He sneaked into Stiles’ room with slightly too good ease, Stiles realising that he’s really been doing this an awful lot lately. Come because Stiles has asked him to, as well as because Derek has asked to be allowed to.

~~

Stiles laughed silently when Derek flopped down on his bed. By some weird ass reason, he hadn’t heard Derek come in and was now very impressed. Derek took pride in his stealth, even if he didn't think he’d been all that quiet because he’d been scared the Sheriff would catch him sneaking into his son’s room. He didn’t think that would provoke any type of sudden rush of trust towards him, so he was glad there was no sign of John Stilinski during the rest of the evening.

Since the break-up shitfest, Stiles had turned to Derek more often than before, really leaning on him and Derek was relentlessly there for him. Sometimes he would think it _should_ feel like work, but it didn’t; mostly it was just liberating being with Stiles, even if he was anxious and needed a bit of a talk down.

It’d been a few weeks, they were nearing Christmas and the big spectacle that had been Stiles dumping Jackass had slowly faded. Stiles never talked about him, never looked his way, and he refused to sit by a table which Jackson sat by at lunch which meant Stiles separated himself from his usual crowd. Derek was glad the days they could eat together but most days their schedules didn't allow it. Scott was there then and Derek made sure that his own friends would tend to Stiles, were he to be alone. The Lydia girl seemed to come to his aid at times when Jackson and his gang of friends were too obnoxious and with her sharp tongue she would easily remind everyone what fucking scum Jackson was and everyone would be at least as uncomfortable as Stiles.

Today, what Stiles needed was only to be talked to, while his head calmed down, until his heart rate was normal. He made Derek check his pulse and Derek complied, after making sure that Stiles wouldn’t get more stressed if it was too rapid but Stiles assured him he would only do some more breathing exercises if that was the case; which it also was. Nodding, Stiles took to focusing on his breathing again and asked Derek to talk him something.

So Derek went on about his day, his classes and told Stiles how his friends were. Stiles hummed slightly every once in awhile, Derek took it as a gesture to keep going and so he did. It was rather pleasant. Sitting in Stiles’ room, talking, though one-sided, and he had no desire to ever leave. He would of course, eventually. Later rather than sooner, Derek hoped. Stiles took a final breath and Derek stopped talking when Stiles held his arm out again.

”Okay, would you check my pulse again, please?”

This time, Stiles decided that his heart beat steadily and slow enough and Derek pulled his hand away as Stiles nodded. “You’re my anxiety hero,” he said, smiling.

Derek hid his face. He needed to stop putting so much into Stiles’ words, he needed to stop feeling tingly every time Stiles said something remotely nice. It was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the burst of words and touches he wanted to overwhelm Stiles in that came with each time Stiles would open his mouth. He gave Stiles a glance and said, “I’m no hero.”

“You are!” Stiles prompted. “You so are. My hero.”

Derek’s stomach made a quadruple flip and instead of giving it the 10 it deserved for making that, Derek told it to knock it off already.

“You know, if you do like this... “ Stiles shot his hand forward and put a strand of hair down Derek’s forehead and Derek stilled. “...you look a little bit like Superman.”

~~

Stiles touched Derek’s face without thinking. He was just there and beautiful, looking more like Superman than Stiles wanted to admit, and Stiles just wanted to see what it felt like to touch the curve of Derek’s chin and the bridge of his nose and his arching eyebrows. He didn’t really mean anything by it, but then Derek closed his wide open eyes and fell into the touch, craving and surrendering. The puzzle fell into place and Stiles realised that Derek was in love with him. He’d know it for a while, but this, seeing Derek just melt like this, he understood finally why Derek had told him about Kate, why Derek had urged him to break up with Jackson, why Derek had come up to him that time he’d most definitely seen Stiles being scared of Jackson, why he’d helped Stiles with Spanish, why he’d told him to call Scott, why he’d been there when Stiles was anxious or panicking. Derek loved him. He _cared_ about Stiles and it had nothing to do with sex or lust; Derek just fucking liked him and wanted him to be safe and okay.

Derek opened his eyes and put his hand on top of Stiles’, which he’d stopped moving and was pressed lightly against Derek’s jaw. His eyes were earnest, almost hopeful. Stiles didn’t know what to do. It looked like Derek might say something so Stiles beat him to it.

“I... “ he started and quickly removed his hand from the other boy’s face. Derek froze. This was it, wasn’t it? This was where he’d turn Derek down one final time and they _would_ stay friends even as Stiles was healed, single and Derek already was the best boyfriend he’d never had. Derek was going to be hurt but he would accept it because he still cared about Stiles when he was together with someone else, he would care about him when he was not. Stiles took a deep breath and said sincerely, “I’d very much like it if you kissed me right now.”

~~

“Why?” Derek heard himself ask. The boy he was in love with asked him to kiss him and Derek wanted to know _why_? Man, Kate must've fucked him up more than he had thought.

Stiles didn’t flinch, though, he didn’t even look confused about the question. “Because you like me and care about me and I like you and care about you, so I think we both might like it,” he said somberly.

“What if you don’t?” Derek whispered because there was just no risk of _him_ not liking it, this was _Stiles_ we were talking about. He could be the worst kisser in the entire world and Derek would still enjoy every second of it.

The amber eyed boy thought it over for a second before saying, “Then I’ll tell you and I won’t let you do it again. But I’m fairly certain that won’t be the case. As long as you want to try, you’re more than welcome to.”

He hadn’t kissed anyone since Kate. To be completely honest, he hadn’t kissed anyone before her either. She’d taken all of his firsts and when Derek leaned into Stiles, his hatred for her grew stronger. How great wouldn’t it have been if this had been his first kiss; with a boy his own age, with someone he really liked and cared about without games or manipulation? How great wouldn’t it have been if Derek could think of Stiles lips and fingers and breath in this moment instead of Kate and how great would it have been if he didn’t feel like he was choking because Stiles put a supporting hand around his neck?

Derek pulled back and Stiles followed which made Derek frantically press his eyelids firmly shut and panicky squeal, “ _Stop!”_ To Derek’s utmost surprise, Stiles’ body heat disappeared, his hands too and when Derek slowly opened his eyes again, Stiles just sat there on the edge of the bed, looking at him with a soft expression.

“You didn't like it?” Stiles asked with a little nod and a sad smile. “That’s okay.”

Derek blinked in confusion, heart pounding. “What? No, I-”

“It’s okay,” Stiles said again.

“You stopped,” Derek said stupidly. This time, Stiles looked at _him_ with confusion a laced expression.

“You told me to?”

“I would like it very much if you kissed me again,” Derek said and Stiles’ eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?”

“No.” He wanted to breathe, wanted to really be able to focus on Stiles the next time; focus on himself, really.

“Okay.”

Stiles looked down at his own fidgeting fingers but looked up when Derek asked, “Did you like it?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

Stiles gave him a lopsided smile. “I think we should make a rule to not say anything unless we mean it.”

“Okay.”

“So. _You_ _did_ like it, then?”

“Yes. It just… I don’t know. A bit too much. Do you mind?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“No lies-rule,” Stiles reminded him. “You take your time. If there’s one thing we have, it’s time.”

“You’re like the most impatient person I’ve ever met,” Derek said and he expected Stiles to agree or roll his eyes but the other boy just held his gaze and said:

“I can be patient for the right cause.”

“For me?” Derek whispered.

“For you.”

“Would you kiss me again, now? Only if you want to.” And Stiles kissed him and Derek felt certain it _was_ because he wanted to and this time he only thought of how perfect Stiles’ mouth fit to his.

~~

Derek: so

Stiles: so what?

Derek: Last night happened.

Stiles: Im pretty sure it did

Stiles: I might have blacked out and dreamt it all up but for whatever happened, i believe it involved you and me and a some seriously consented kissing

Derek: how do you just naturally make everything sound so weird

Stiles: why was that weird

Stiles: i think it was very nicely summed up,thank you very much

Derek: cállate por favor 

Stiles: el españa is back!

Derek: i will literally murder you

Stiles: Estoy seguro

Derek: en serio

Derek: what happens now

Stiles: like… with us?

Stiles: Derek Miguel Hale, are you trying to ask me out?

Derek: my middle name is not miguel

Stiles: besides the point

Derek: its racist

Stiles: ok valid point, im sorry, will not repeat

Derek: i guess i am tho...

Stiles: ...racist?

Stiles: ...sorry?

Derek: …

Stiles: ...asking me out?  

Derek: yes

Stiles: see that wasn't so hard now was it?

Derek: im already reconsidering

Stiles: but i havent even agreed yet

Derek: oh

Stiles: YET

Stiles: yet

Stiles: because i do agree

Stiles: definitely, go out with me. You'll have a wonderful time, i'll talk and you can just sit and brood

Derek: you are literally the worst

Stiles: u like it shut up

Derek: i like you

Stiles: NOW whos the sap?

Derek: i like you the best when you shut the fuck up

Stiles: k

Stiles: hey derek?

Derek: what

Stiles: I like you too

~~

“Are we like constantly ignoring boners we would very much like to be taken care of because you don’t want to, you’re scared I’m gonna make you do something you don’t want to or because you’re scared you’ll make _me_ do something _I_ don’t want to do?”

Derek blushed. Stiles liked it. What he also liked, was how Derek answered the question.

“I didn’t want to stress.”

“No stress here,” Stiles said and Derek laughed at him. Stiles didn’t want to stress things either, but last night Stiles _knew_ it wasn’t just him that had been so horny he’d basically just had to put his hand down his pants before he came, yet they’d stayed fully dressed when together, only grinding together through hot kisses. Stiles didn’t dare to think how close he’d been to coming just by that.

“I think,” Stiles said, “we’ve gone a decent amount of time dating, though.” It’d been months now.

Derek bit his lip and nodded. “I do too.”

Stiles grinned and grabbed a hold of Derek, rolled them over so that Stiles was on top of his boyfriend, capturing his face in between his arms. “So, what do you want? Huh? Something with your dick?” he asked teasingly. Derek shook his head. “No? _My_ dick?” And Derek nodded, cheeks burning. “You wanna touch it? Suck it? I might let you bite it if you’re- “

“Take it,” Derek said.

Stiles frowned. “What?”

“I want to take it. I want you… in me.”

“Heya, slow down there, tiger,” Stiles said and settled on top of Derek. Derek, who’s face had turned bright red started sputtering apologies.

“I didn’t mean, like, if you don’t want to, I-”

“Hey!” Stiles shouted turned Derek’s face with his hand to make him look him in the eye. Derek didn’t look at all, probably because he was too embarrassed. “I just meant, we shouldn’t rush things, yeah? I was only like joking, teasing. I mean, getting _naked_ is a good first step if you ask me.”

~~

“And you’re sure you wanna… I mean, I’ve told you I-”

“I want you to be my first.”

“Okay?”

“Like… Kate was my first _everything_ , I thought. But, that, you can be my first.”

“You’re not just-”

“Also I’ve been unable to think about anything else for the last week. Once I said it out loud, I’ve just wanted it more.”

“But you’re not just-”

“No. I’m not.”

“Because it’s not as fun as it sounds.”

“Okay.”

“Like, it feels a bit odd. Even just fingers. Very weird. And if you clench because it feels weird, you’ll be uncomfortable. It’ll be tense and even weirder and you’ll most probably feel embarrassed.”

“Okay.”

“You _will_ clench.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not trying to put you off, I’m just…”

“I want to. I want to try.”

“I’ll do it real slow, but I’ve… I’ve never actually done it myself.”

“I’ll be your first, too.”

“Yeah,” Stiles smiled. “Yeah, you will be.”

~~

“Stiles, _please…_ ” But however much Derek begged, it wouldn’t happen tonight _either_ and Stiles felt a laughter bubble up inside him.

“Dude, I’ve _never_ topped; I literally do not own any condoms my size.”

Derek arched his back and groaned, “Not funny, ’m dying here.”

Stiles chuckled into Derek’s thigh which made the other boy inhale sharply.

“Oh, I think there’s a _little death_ you might like,” he said and placed a trail of small kissed up Derek’s leg. “And trust me,” he added, “you’re definitely not ready for more than this.” He twisted his two fingers and Derek withered beneath him in a mess of quiet moans. Stiles added, “I promise I’ll have condoms for when you are.”

“You don’t have-” Derek started once Stiles’s pecks reached the base of Derek’s cock but Stiles interrupted by saying that he _wanted_ to.

“So, unless _you_ don’t want me to, I’d like to suck your dick.”

“I’d like that,” Derek agreed, voice groggy and Stiles smirked before sinking his mouth down on Derek’s cock.

~~

Stiles: ¡Hola! ¡Gracias por lo de ayer!

Derek: har-har

Stiles: ¿Cómo estás?

Derek: are you trying to suck up to me, you hate those upside down symbols. Also you're using the polite form. What are you doing?

Stiles: I thought I'd show you what a great influence you have on me

Derek: wow what did you do

Stiles: *gasps* what i would never!

Derek: stiles

Stiles: fine. I didn't pass my Spanish exam

Derek: ffs

Stiles: i mean, i could say it’s your fault, you’re my tutor after all

Derek: eres un idiota 

Stiles: this is why i didn't pass, you only teach me things i cannot write in an essay

Derek: i've casually helped you improve your Spanish, you're great lengths from where you were when i met you  

Stiles: awww thanks babe, but i still gonna have to redo my test

Derek: i'll help you study

Stiles: i like the sound of that

Derek: you ain't getting shit until you've passed the exam

Stiles: !!!

Derek: fine but you're passing that test

Stiles: aye aye captain

~~

Stiles was leaning against his boyfriend’s locker and Derek watched him from afar. It felt like ages ago since the locker had been Jackson’s and Stiles was a boy Derek didn't know but felt a strong surge of protectiveness over. It felt like two seconds ago that Stiles had laid on his bed, nose pressed to Derek’s and he’d smiled that way he did sometimes and Derek had had to ask him _what_.

“Te amo,” Stiles had breathed.

“You fucking nerd,” Derek had said and caught Stiles’ face with his palms and kissed him before returning the statement by whispering, “I love you too.”

It felt like they’ve always known each other, it felt like they’d just met because each day Derek learned something new about Stiles, every day they fell more comfortable against one another. They paced themselves and were so patient, taking things sometimes agonizingly slow but a couple of times they’d realised that that pace helped them, cause when they went too fast, either one of the would immediately tense and things would _have_ to slow down. They still learned the other’s ins and outs and Derek liked it very much.

There was a slight cough and Derek was pulled out of his mind.

“I see you,” Stiles said, nose still buried in his phone. Derek marched up to him with a lazy smile and Stiles grinned while he captured Derek’s neck with his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Derek snaked his arms around Stiles’ middle and when the kiss ended he said, “Of course, Stiles. You’re standing right in front of me. _I see you too._ ”

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **Sí, claro, pero es sólo una excusa para verme.** Yes, of course, but it’s only an excuse to see me.  
>  **¡Oye, oye, mamá! Deja tranquilo al chico.** Hey, hey, mom! Take it easy on the kid.  
>  **El hombre más grande de la rey.** The biggest man of the law.  
>  **¡Samuel, Ángel! ¡Alcen sus juguetes, van a matar a su abuela! ¡O a mí!** Samuel, Ángel! Clean up your toys, you’re going to kill your grandma! Or me!  
>  **Sí claro.** Yes, of course.  
>  **¿Qúe tal?** How are you?  
>  **Habla conmigo, ¿qué pasa?** Talk to me, what’s up?  
>  **No mucho, y tu?** Not much, you?  
>  **Mamá te quiere aquí para cenar, no es una pregunta.** Mom wants you here for dinner, it’s not a question.  
>  **Ella es el jefe.** She’s the boss.  
>  **Bien, bien, con todo gusto.** Fine fine, with pleasure.  
>  **Claro que sí.** Of course.  
>  **Pero…?** But…?  
>  **Pero nada.** But nothing.  
>  **¿Cómo estás?** How are you?  
>  **Mal.** Bad.  
>  **¿Por qué?** Why?  
>  **El novio.** The boyfriend.  
>  **¿Es malo contigo?** Is he mean to you?  
>  **No, pero…** No, but...  
>  **Es un poco… dominante? Intenso? Manipulativo?** A bit… dominating? Strong? Manipulative?  
>  **No es bueno.** That’s not good.  
>  **No importa.** Not important.  
>  **Habláme.** Talk to me.  
>  **Perdóname, perdóname.** Forgive me, forgive me.  
>  **Muchas gracias.** Thank you very much.  
>  **Cállate por favor.** Shut up, please.  
>  **Estoy seguro.** I’m sure.  
>  **En serio.** Seriously.  
>  **¡Hola! ¡Gracias por lo de ayer!** Hey! Thanks for yesterday!  
>  **¿Cómo estás?** How are you?  
>  **Eres un idiota.** You’re an idiot.  
>  **Te amo.** I love you.
> 
> Like my stuff? [Buy me a coffee!](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/mee4ever)


End file.
